For the first time in her life, Buffy had acted not upon a thought out plan and process, but on a whim. She’d followed her instincts and followed her desire. To Spike. To kissing him, to telling him the secret of her heart, that she hadn’t even reconciled with herself quite yet.
Her head, as a result, was spinning. Especially when Spike seemed keen on pressing her for what she “exactly meant”, and “where did they go from here?” Good questions all, and all of which she had not an answer to. Her “I don’t know” didn’t seem to resonate well with him and so, as they made their way back to his home, and as he followed her up to Alicia’s soon- to- be- room while she prepared to get ready for bed, he continued to ask her.
“Spike!” she exclaimed finally, sitting on the bed, exasperated. “Do you think if you keep asking me the same question, I’ll miraculously have the answer?”
He blinked, “Yeah.” And then he grinned mischievously, “Or at least tell me what I want to hear to get me to shut up, so that later I can use it to get what I want when I throw it in your face that you agreed to my terms.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Not that you had that all thought out or anything.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, “Part of my charm.”
“You have charm?” and she snorted at the weary look he gave her.
He sighed, “So then why did you say it? Was it the moment? The setting sun, the beach? The fact that I played Hero Dad today? That I put Harmony in her place? Was I ever worthy of such affection from you before, or did I have to prove myself first? What was it?”
She stared at him, not sure what to do with that question in the middle regarding his worthiness. It stunned her. It gave her pause. It made her think. And unlike the beach, she didn’t want to rush into an answer without thinking through how she wanted to phrase what she needed to say. Unfortunately, her quiet gave him all the answers of his worst fears and he shook his head, running a hand through his hair.
“Forget it,” he muttered and practically ran off.
So, it was quite possible that his quest for love and acceptance in all the wrong places had been helped, his skirt chasing supported, by everyone around him that was supposed to love him, and instead had turned away from him, turned up their judgmental noses at him and berating him, causing him to sink further in his self-loathing, which in turn caused him to skirt chase and – oh God, it was vicious cycle. One that perhaps she’d had a hand in helping to continue.
Thinking back on past conversations, all the ones leading up to his turnaround had been about how disgusting his behavior had been. What a mimbo he was, how horrible his judgment was, what a bad father he was.
Had there been anything, ever, that she had complimented him on? It wasn’t until he’d expressed a desire to change that she’d told him how she saw good things in him. He didn’t know until then though, didn’t know until he was about to bring those aspects of himself out more and in full force, that she’d thought him a good man.
Was it possible that Spike had been trying all this time not only prove himself worthy to him, but to those around him as well? That if he had women around him, it said that hey, at least somebody wants me for me.
Even if he was never the real him. Even if he was playing a part. Hey, at least someone was there, and that was all that mattered, right?
It was a mess, a convoluted, multi-layered mess. Complicated, just like the man. The man that, let’s face it, owned her heart.
What he’d just told in that line of questioning without really telling her was that he felt worthless before his transformation, and that everyone saw him as just that. Which only served to fuel his belief that he was not lovable to begin with. That was the very belief he tried to hide and squelch down with numerous affairs and living the ‘high life’. And now, now he was getting positive reactions, he was being told how great he was, how great he could be – but no one had bothered to give him any crumbs before. He probably felt as though they all just saw him as a pathetic fuck up.
She was going to have to fix this.
Spike took a deep drag off his cigarette, so deep he almost coughed. Letting out the puff of smoke that never seemed to end, he sat down on the edge of his patio chair and stared off into the nightlife of Los Angeles.
He felt suddenly that he didn’t fit in anywhere. As if he were in limbo. He didn’t belong to the nightlife anymore and he didn’t belong inside with Buffy it seemed either. He wanted to belong inside with her, he also wanted to belong to the rush of the nightlife, but he’d made promises to people that that was not part of him any longer. As a result, he was beginning to feel trapped.
“Spike.”
He looked up to see Buffy coming out to join him on his balcony. He turned back to the view. “Buffy, I’m kind of not in the mood right now.”
“Look, what you said, I never realized—Spike, I’m sorry.”
“For? For thinking I’m just a fuck up? For thinking I was really just a waste of space before and that the only things I did right was conceiving Alicia and maybe my acting?”
“No, that’s not it at all, actually. I’m sorry I never told you that . . . “ she trailed off, taking a huge breath.
“Told me what? Don’t have to lie to me now, pet. I know what I am. No more than a monster, really. The only thing I got going for me now is redemption. Other than that, when that’s all said and done, I’ll go back to being nothing again.” He stood, facing her, feeling the anger and frustration rise to the surface. “It kills me, you know. You all banded together before to complain about what a louse I was, what a ‘mimbo’ I was, what an awful father I was. It was as if that’s all I was to you. Just a deadbeat dad that dated a bunch of moronic sluts. Now that I’ve ‘seen the light’, I’m suddenly worth something. I get a pat on the back and a ‘so proud of you’, but it’s like. . . what happens when that ends? What happens if I fuck up somewhere along the way? What if I don’t fit into the mold that you all want me to fit into anymore? Will I go back to being nothing more than a fuck up?”
“Spike, I never realized how unfair we’ve been, well, mainly me. Sam, she’s. . . well, she’s gonna take a bit of time.”
“Until I fuck up again and then I’ll just have proved her right yet again.”
“Would you stop saying that? You’re not a fuck up.”
He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Come on! Don’t hold back on me now. You’ve been saying it in many ways and many times since you got here, why take it all back now? Huh? Isn’t this part of the process? Kick him while he’s down, but then continue to kick him on his way up so he remembers his place. Isn’t that right, Buffy?”
She shook her head, “No, it’s not.”
He stared at her, noticing the tears pooling in her eyes. That startled him. Buffy never cried, hardly ever. It angered him. “Oh great, now I’ve gone and made you cry – gonna make me feel guilty about that now?”
She shook her head, swallowing hard. “I’m not upset at you. You’re not making me cry. I’m . . . realizing that I made you feel less than you were is making me cry. I hate that I made you feel that way.”
He stood rooted where he was, stunned and suddenly overwhelmed by her words and what they meant. “What?”
“I never realized that I treated you less than you were. I never realized that I brushed you off as a fuck up and a deadbeat dad. I didn’t try to tell you that I didn’t like what you were doing, that I was concerned about you, that I was so incredibly jealous of those girls, and concerned for Alicia – I just wrote you off as some jackass that couldn’t keep it in his pants while waiting for you to get a clue. And when you did, then I chose to tell you what a great man I saw all this time. I never told you when you had those moments of greatness and no wonder you felt like such a louse all the time. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for never telling you before. Spike, there’s no way I could have . . .” she took a deep breath, “fallen in love with you if I thought that you were just a fuck up. I told you before, and I’m telling you now, I always saw the good man you were inside. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. And even if you do ‘fuck up’ as you say, who doesn’t? Aren’t we all just human? The point of it is to have those around us that care about us no matter what, and are there to pick us up when we fall. You took a long ass fall for a long ass time, and I was there. Now you’re picking yourself up with a stumble here and there, and I’m still here, Spike. Because I believe you are a good man.”
He blinked, “Buffy?”
“Yeah?” she asked, wiping her tears away that were now falling freely.
“Did you just tell me you were in love with me?”
Now she threw up her arms in exasperation. “You choose that to focus on after all that?”
“Would you stop crying, you’re making me well up,” he admonished her, “And I hate to cry as much as you do.”
“I can’t help it! It always happens when I get nervous and feel truly bad about something.”
“Well knock it off and tell me you love me again.”
“God, you’re pushy,” she said and rolled her eyes.
“That’s right, I am. Now say it. Please?” he asked, strolling towards her, feeling suddenly light and free. Feeling that he suddenly found where he belonged.
Looking him straight in the eye, Buffy stood tall. “I love you Spike and I have the whole time. I was just too—“
“Buffy?” he asked, stopping in front of her, pushing some hair from her face.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” and he covered her mouth with his, kissing her hungrily, passionately and devoutly. He hadn’t realized how starved he was for this; how much he needed it until it was right there before him. Until he realized that he needed her like he needed air. He was starved for real love and real love was what she gave him. Her arms and her heart was where he wanted to be, had to be, and would fight to be forever.
Buffy was, quite simply, love.